


Terry Pratchett's (Discworld) Universe (1) : Breaking a Broken Mind

by Madzie2000



Series: Star Ships: Best Non-canon Couples of TV and Film [5]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, The Hogfather (2006)
Genre: F/M, Susan has a decent sense of humour, Teatime is a basketcase when he's alive and well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8295665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie2000/pseuds/Madzie2000
Summary: Susan doesn't like Teatime and he doesn't like her... which is completely untrue. After an incident at the Tooth Fairy's Castle, Susan and Teatime come to realise that their is something in his warped mind that stops him from taking an experiment too far. From here things seems to go well but every relationship has it's trust issues; it's even worse when one party killed you and the other was secretly suffering for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, some fans of the books will know this but if you haven't seen the movie or book there is a sidenote for you about Teatime's surname:The only time someone says it as tee-time is when they are Susan or meeting him for the first time.  
> His name is supposed to be pronounced as tee-ah-tee-may, tay-a-tar-mee or a mish mash of those four sounds depening on your own accent. (The second pronounciation is used by Marc Warren while in the role of Jonathan Teatime in the movie and seems a little better on the ears to me personally.)
> 
> Also, if you can't quite get through the story, simply bookmark the entire thing and leave your note as the last sentence you were reading. Now you can continue without scrolling around for half an hour :)
> 
> Also, the songs Monster by Imagine Dragons, Already Over by Red and You and I by Krypteria are songs that I believe tie into this story quite well (if you like music while listening to your fics).

In a moment of pure unadultered lust, rather than wrenching Susan’s head back and spitting further insults into the air, Teatime snapped his head to look at Banjo. The great oaf was staring at him as if he had stabbed the white-haired ‘girl’ brutally, something he was considering.

“Hey Banjo?” Teatime said in his melancholic, high pitched voice, “I need to give this girl a lesson on manners. Would you mind leaving and closing the door like a good boy?”

Banjo frowned.

“You’re not supposed to play wif gurls,” he said firmly in a near baritone.

“I’m not playing Banjo,” he countered quickly, “I’m teaching her a lesson and then bringing her back out again.”

Banjo was somehow satisfied with the answer and left the room, the mechanisms slid back into place. Susan was now closed into a room with a strange and not-so-grown man. With a hand still holding one arm behind her back, Teatime carefully moved a few stray white ringlets from the pristine skin along her cheekbone and slid them behind her ear. To any normal woman this would be overly disturbing but Susan had trained herself to overcome any fear that mortals had. It had **almost** worked.

 

This man was smart and he would figure her out sooner or later.

“You’re wasting precious minutes Teatime,” Susan said with an audible change in her tone.

The man knew from experience that a quick ascent in any persons tone spoke of unease… or even nervousness. Just what he wanted.

“Are you scared of me Susan?” Teatime whispered into her ear, ghosting warm air over her cheek, “Has someone finally found what makes your blood run cold? Do I scare you?”

Susan had a retort and wielded it like the sword that Jonathan had mysteriously moved away with his feet. It was sitting a few metres away with its graceful skull decals, calling out to its owner. She didn’t remember the blonde ever moving it but somehow it wasn’t in either of their hands.

“I couldn’t possibly be scared of a man whose name appears to be the time of day you drink hot beverages such as …” Susan trailed off and looked innocently at the roof as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, “tea.”

Full of rage and a strange urge to put his mark on her, Teatime put his lips to Susan’s neck and sucked hard, leaving a dreadful black and blue bruise where his mouth had been. He let his grip on her arm grow tighter and half shouted into her ear.

 

She had barely flinched when he left the bruise on her skin but somehow the defiance seemed to make things all the more enjoyable.

“Do you know why I stopped looking up dolls dresses all those years ago?” he asked in a menacing (though rather amusing) voice.

“Haven’t got a clue,” Susan said as the high pitch returned to her voice.

Playing on her fears, Teatime drew his free hand down Susan’s neck, over her collarbone and let it rest on the clap of her cloak which bore the symbol Omega. With a flick of his wrist the clasp was opened and the cloak had puddled out onto the ground. A few seconds after it had stopped moving, the cloak disappeared and Susan’s normal clothing which she chose to wear in the Discworld returned to its rightful place. With one lithe movement, Teatime had pulled her flush against himself, taking in the reaction he would soon see as it flooded across her features. Like any human might, Susan gave the average fight or flight response and chose flight; an escape. Her hands splayed out over his chest and pushed hard, but despite his stature, Jonathan Teatime would not loosen his grip.

“You will never figure out my fears Teatime,” Susan stated matter-of-factly.

 

Teatime only found further ‘study’ necessary. All people, even he himself, had fears. The Granddaughter of Death, Susan Sto Helit, was and would never be an exception. He had to go further than mere threats and intimidating words.

“I never finished my story,” he said with something that sounded like a mixture of pride and annoyance, “and its very rude to interrupt people when they’re telling a story.”

Brandishing his dagger, Teatime pulled it up to eye level and allowed Susan to see the silver blade.

“I don’t need to look up a doll’s dress,” Teatime’s slid a hand between himself and Susan, finding a clasp that held up her skirts, “because I know how to take off a real one.”

The devilish smile on Teatime’s face had finally made Susan crack under pressure. Her fears were going to come to light and this maniac would take full advantage of it. She had no time to run. The lower half of Susan’s two-piece dress fell to the ground in a heap, leaving her in underwear, gartered stockings and a thick blouse with shoulder padding. In that moment, as she practically dove to recover her skirts, Teatime was sure that he had found her one weakness. He snatched at one of her hands and caught the one that had been stuck behind her back, quickly finding the other and forcing her to lie on the ground with her skirts under her back.

 

Susan planned to attempt a move that was offensive rather than defensive, but Teatime had second guessed her and sat over her hips, locking the woman’s body in underneath his. Ringlets of blonde hair were falling over his face as he looked downward into her eyes, not quite drawing her attention away from the noticeable bulge in his black clothing. If she tried to wriggle away he’d only take pleasure from it and cause her more trouble than she already found herself in. Miraculously, Teatime still held the dagger and trailed it over her shoulder, stopping when he reached the circular neck of the blouse. In quick cutting motions he sliced the blouse in half. Down the middle of Susan’s chest and stomach blood had begun to bead and drip over her bare flesh. It wasn’t enough to bleed to death, but enough to bring tears to her eyes. With nothing but her arms to cover herself with, Susan flung them over her chest and looked up into Teatime’s eyes. She was silently hoping that he had had his fun and would leave her in peace. Instead he leaned uncomfortably close to her face, inspecting tears that rolled out from the corner of her eyes. His mouth opened slightly, as if he couldn’t quite understand the discovery himself.

“So that was it?” he said in astonishment, “you don’t like to be seen without your clothes on? Haha.”

 

Despite his rather chirpy laughter, Teatime’s face had grown stern too quickly for her not to notice. Deciding against forcefulness, he gently pulled Susan to a sitting position by her upper arms.

“Change back, pick up the cloak and leave,” he whispered monotonously, “or I’ll use the sword to run you through.”

While Teatime stalked over to the sword and picked it up, Susan stood and changed back into her other form; the form that made her – officially – the Granddaughter of Death. To her surprise, Teatime was walking toward the door and didn’t dare look back in case she wasn’t decent yet. A single word crossed Susan’s mind: _why?_ While she picked her cloak up from the white floor, Teatime snuck a glance over his shoulder at Susan. He had the same words in his head: _why? What possessed me to let her go?_ He didn’t mull over it for long. Susan came toward him with a defiant look as the doors mechanism opened.

“Not in a fighting mood anymore?” he teased.

“No, I’m not,” she said flatly.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning,” he said with a grin, jumping onto the thick wall behind him, “but I didn’t.”

 

He stabbed her with the blade of the sword and it went right through her. He tried slicing off her head but this gave the same result. He threw the sword down into the open stairwell. Susan kept her expression blank as she stepped closer to him and gained the courage to do what she had never done before; kill a human.

“Hello inner child,” she said as one hand collided with his smug face.

Teatime put up his hand to nurse his stinging cheek as Susan curled her fingers, jutting out the bottom of her palm.

“I’m the inner baby-sitter,” she announced triumphantly as her palm collided with his chest.

Teatime was so shocked by Susan’s brave attempt to kill him that he felt the need to ask her why. At the last second he caught hold of the sleeve of her dress and pulled her down with him. Susan was fortunate enough to grab onto the side of the wall but Teatime’s extra weight made it impossibly hard to keep her grip. They slipped a little further and now a giant tooth was all that lay between them and Death… not that he would get to them any time soon. Teatime looked up into Susan’s eyes and winked, the image burning into her mind like a hot brand on cattle-hide. That was all she saw when his body lay on the ground of the sitting room belonging to the Gaiters’ not two hours later. She didn’t know that it was also his last waking memory, knowing full well that the only thing to kill him had done so with a poker. Somehow she looked like an angel.

 

 

Many Years Later…

 

 

Jonathan Teatime had believed in one O’God and its name was the O’God of Assassins. The Guild of Assasins had created such a strong belief in killing for money that members of old had brought this particularly gruesome O’God into existence. On Hogswatch night close to a century ago Teatime was killed and went to the place he had dreamed of: a place where most issues – but not his childish voice – could no longer loom over him. Inside of his own mind he had always called out to himself to not take things so far and he had only heard himself once. It was the day he saw Susan Sto Helit underneath him, quivering in fear of him. His only love was gone by now, with a real husband and a family that extended beyond even the bounds of his imagination. His ‘Heaven’ as it were was a decently sized manor with an extensive library full of books and two levels to make him feel taller than most other people. Some days the O’God would punish him for being soft on Susan (though that was definitely not the case at the time) by making her appear at his door and stab him. Thankfully the Afterlife did not allow a person to be killed: they simply felt pain. Susan always wrenched the O’God forsaken sword right through his heart. Now he just opened the door and turned his back quickly. Susan Sto Helit had stabbed him in the back and having her do it for real would be both a miracle and hell at once.

 

He wished he could see her again but it would be impossible. There was an impending knock on the door and today he felt like a change; he was going to stab her before she could get to him. Brandishing his small bladed dagger, Teatime lifted it up in line with the very top curls of his hair and wrenched the door open. His dagger met with a sword and shattered instantly. He quickly moved his hand to avoid the blade slicing his hand and received a decent cut.

“Do you always try to murder your guests?” Susan asked him with her brows lightly raised.

Rather than replying Teatime stood in the doorway clutching his injured hand, his face reading nothing but a blank disbelief. It was so minute any normal person might miss it, but Susan wasn’t normal or even a person.

“No,” he said eyeing her cautiously, “but then again very few people like to visit me. Aren’t you going to run me through again? The O’God loves that.”

Susan raised one eyebrow and watched Teatime’s hand heal, almost mystified by his words. He was a basket case but why would she try and kill a man who was already dead?

“I don’t intend on doing that Teatime,” Susan said as she lowered her sword from its defensive position, “I needed to ask you a question.”

 

Teatime snapped his fingers and they were transported – by what could only be magic – to a room with a small table and a chair on each end. Teatime put his hands in his lap and sat perfectly straight, staring her down.

“I’m listening inner babysitter,” he grinned.

Susan shifted uncomfortably to the empty chair under his piercing stare and noticed that he was somehow more reasonable than usual. Perhaps the Afterlife gave people a new outlook on the life they once had and mellowed them out.

“At least you haven’t lost your warped sense of humour,” Susan said as she held his gaze.

“I have waited for my time to die to ask you,” she continued, “and I even prayed to the O’God of Assassins to be able to see you again.”

At these words Teatime threw an arm out and pulled Susan toward him by her dresses collar, lowering his voice.

“And why would you do that?” Teatime spat at her, “he thinks you’re the reason I failed in murdering your Grandfather. If I know the O’God the way I think I do, he’s going to make you pay hell to be here.”

 

“He can’t make me pay anything,” Susan said triumphantly, “not while my Grandfather is still around.”

Teatime let her go and stood from his seat, snapping his fingers. Susan fell to the floor as Teatime showed her the way out. Being right next to the front door seemed a little rude to her but she knew he wasn’t all there.

“Leave,” he said clearly, “so I can spoil the bastard’s fun.”

Susan stood up and rather than leaving through the door she closed it.

“Or perhaps your trying to spoil your own,” she insisted, “I’m going to be here for quite a while so I suggest you answer my question and then decide whether or not to throw me out into Limbo.”

Teatime kept his hand on the knob of the door and looked into Susan’s eyes.

“You want to ask me why I didn’t kill you, correct?” he said almost innocently.

“Not correct Mr Teatime,” she said with a smile curling at the corner of her lips.

He laughed in both amusement and shock, a big smile decorating his face.

“You finally said it right,” he said happily.

“And you stopped yourself from hurting me the worst way a man could hurt a woman… why?”

 

He went silent and opened the door, his eyes turning downward.

“Your time is up,” he said as he burned a hole into the floor with his eyes, “even I don’t know the answer to that question.”

Susan lifted his face and looked into his eyes; one a pale, ice blue with a tiny pupil and the other almost completely black. How she had wanted to lose herself in those eyes and he in hers.

“Because you have a heart,” she said lovingly, “and you finally learnt how to use it.”

Susan willed herself to move closer to him and pressed against his dark clothing, their lips touching for a moment. The only kiss she knew how deliver. Teatime brought the hand that had been holding the door to rest along her cheekbone as their lips left one another. Her slightly taller frame made him feel just a little bit helpless.

“Go find your husband,” he begged her; “I’m not worth your time. He’d be jealous to know you’d been kissing a man you killed near to a century ago.”

Susan finally smiled fully despite the pain in Teatime’s eyes.

“I never married,” she said honestly, “because I knew someone who needed me more than a rich Lord or Duke.”

 

“He never admitted it to himself but he’s been hoping I’d come by for some time just to hear me say his name again... and his name – his real name – is Jonathan. That’s the name he really wants people to say because there is no other way to say it.”

Jonathan let his hand slip from her face and walked away, suddenly sinking to his knees and falling to one side. Susan was beyond alarmed and dove to him, lifting him and shuffling forward until his head was on her shoulder.

“Jonathan” she whispered, slowly getting louder, “please wake up. I needed to know that there was some good in you and the only way to prove that was to see you in the Afterlife. Grandfather refused to bring me to you outright in case you tried attacking him. Whatever you did in your past you must leave it behind. Be the man you want to be.”

To Susan’s horror, Jonathan’s eyes began to leak blood while they were closed. An eerie glow spread out over him and she gently put him back down on his side. When the glow disappeared he was wearing a cloak made of black fabric with rather normal clothing compared to the black. A maroon leather doublet and a cream-yellow undershirt which seemed to match his curly hair made him almost normal.

 

Susan carefully ripped a small slither of fabric from his cloak with her sword and used it to swipe the blood from Jonathan’s eyes. For a moment she felt sure she had driven him away somehow, perhaps she had scared him into a coma. He couldn’t die again and leave her because…

“Jonathan I love you,” Susan said as she pressed a tender hiss to his cheek.

Strong arms wrapped around her back and pulled her close, surprising her beyond belief. He pressed a warm kiss to her cheek and let her see his eyes; his normal, blue-green eyes that seemed to sparkle despite the tears in them.

“I can think again,” Jonathan said in his boyish voice, swallowing hard and hoping that it would also change like his eyes.

He quickly stood and held a hand out to Susan who took it without question. But she couldn’t stay silent for very long in a situation like this.

“What do you mean by that?” she said worriedly.

Jonathan’s heart raced and he looked at their joined hands, stunned at how well they seemed to belong together.

“I can say what I want,” he said excitedly, looking for the words he needed to tell her what he knew were the truth.

 

“I can tell you that even though I looked like a Wizards brew gone wrong,” he paused and blurted it out, “I love you too. I don’t understand why but I do. Maybe it’s because we both know what it’s like to be different… or because we’re both blonde.”

Susan smiled and looked into his human eyes as a hand reached up to touch her face. In that moment they both felt a pull toward one another and their lips collided. It was mad and passionate, but the former was less present in Teatime. He had another secret he hoped that Susan would never discover but judging by her choice to stay a mere unmarried yet well-to-do woman, she was going to find out very quickly. When they pulled apart at last for air their cheeks were red and they both had ridiculous smiles on their faces.

“Well,” Susan said with amusement and a face that tried desperately to hide the hilarity of the situation, “that was bound to happen sooner rather than later, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose it was,” Jonathan swallowed hard and then continued on, “just a matter of time.”

Their eyes locked and he put an arm behind Susan’s back, quickly snapping his fingers and grabbing her legs with them afterwards. Susan laughed and let her head roll back a little.

 

She took in the décor of his room; a double bed with beautiful wooden carvings and a lush canopy, a small dresser to one side of it and two doors that lead away from what she could safely assume was his bedroom. This was it. The last testament of whether she would truly trust him with all of her… but she had to. She had come this far and proved that she had become as hungry for him as he was for her. Being careful not to drop her or lay her down awkwardly, Jonathan pressed a kiss to Susan’s forehead and sat her down, doing the same. Only now noticing the rip in his cloak and his new clothes.

“That wasn’t there before…” his voice quickly trailed off when he realised that his clothing was entirely different from the assassins clothing he had been awarded by the Guild.

He suddenly felt ill and wished he wasn’t nervous. It was especially awkward when he had the love of his life next to him waiting to be with him in every way that they could. He hadn’t realised that he was staring at the floor or that Susan was doing the same thing. They had no idea where to start or finish – no pun intended. Susan sat a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and slid it toward his neck, undoing the knot in his cloak by pulling a single string. Taking it as a cue to repeat the action, Jonathan went to undo the clasp on Susan’s own black cloak but he saw her body stiffen a little and changed his approach.

 

He knew he looked like he was concentrating too hard and it had likely thrown her off. A hand crept to the side of her throat he couldn’t see and she flinched… he had touched the place where he had bruised her at this very age. It was there because she chose to show him she wasn’t afraid of what he could do and he knew she had chosen poorly. Jonathan’s hand moved to her shoulder and he gently brought her upper body to him, planting kisses along her jawline as his hand slipped to the clasp. As if demonstrating that they were on the right track, Susan’s clasp was heavy enough to bring down his cloak with her own, a sea of black at their feet. His hand wandered and found the wide sash hidden at the edge of Susan’s skirts while he kissed her fully on the lips. His hands fumbled and she found enough courage to do the rest while his hand sat over hers. The skirts were loose and he could easily slip them off but Susan was not prepared to give him the time to. Deciding that he shouldn’t have **all** the fun, she pulled strongly but not too eagerly at the laces over the front of his chest. He found it hilarious when she wrenched his chest forward in an attempt to get a particularly frayed piece of lace to move through a loop. Before she could give up he stilled her hands and found them trembling. She was shaking as much as he wished he could but he had nerves of steel and could not really show fear unless he was truly horrified.

 

Having ‘inhumed’ as many human beings as he had, that task became quite hard to accomplish. But he was definitely scared of what she thought of him.

“You’re shaking,” he said with a noticeable drop in his tone, “did I scare you?”

Susan finally pulled the stupid lace away and Jonathan tried to look focussed on removing the doublet rather than on her. Perhaps his roving – and now matching – eyes had been staring too long.

“No, no, it wasn’t you at all...” Susan’s voice faded as her mind wandered.

Jonathan smirked and opened one arm out to her, Susan snuggling into it and silently wishing that they weren’t close to the same height: it was like hugging a slightly smaller, male version of herself.

“Well I can tell you my secret if you like?” he said with a comforting smile on his face, “and you’d be the second person to know.”

Now Susan was interested but she hid it well. She thought of his old temperament before she answered and reminded herself that it wasn’t the same crazy little man anymore. She nodded and Jonathan felt her heads move against his chest. He slowly sat his chin against her forehead and said the few words the O’God and walls of the Guild of Assassins had heard.

“The Guild had strict rules and I followed them,” he said as he wet his upper lip.

 

“I became so engrossed in them that I forgot to live life and find a lovely lady for myself,” he said as he realised his throat was slowly running dry.

“I haven’t even dared to kiss one until now.”

Susan smiled awkwardly and looked into his eyes, realising that it was no word of a lie. She sat up and felt a little faint but held herself together with a single deep breath. A hand sat over hers and held it, bringing it up to soft lips that placed a kiss on her ivory skin. He wanted her trust and the permission to do this and she knew she would give in soon with those aquamarine eyes staring into her soul.

“Well at least we’re on the same page,” she said to reassure them both.

Jonathan saw the large buttons along Susan’s back and slid his hand along her arm to reach them. Susan didn’t want to tell him that she was ticklish, but somehow she was so entranced by the warmth in his eyes that it wasn’t an issue. With sleight of hand, Jonathan had the buttons undone quite quickly and Susan showed her acceptance by letting her hair down out of the complicated bun as a hand slid over her bare back. The wandering hand pushed lightly at the fabric on her shoulders and moved it down her slender arms, revealing more of her skin.

 

By this time she would have been mortified by her lack of clothing but Susan had done it; she wasn’t afraid to let him see her body and she doubted he would be too timid to show her his own. Proving her right, Jonathan took off the doublet and let it drop to the floor with a soft thump from what he assumed was its weight. He looked down to his chest and deftly began to undo the line of buttons along the front of the undershirt until Susan held his hands and stopped him. It was a shock when he realised that – not only did her dress split into two halves – but the upper half was missing entirely. The soft thump hadn’t been just from his doublet, but Susan secretly discarding her blouse. As the creamy undershirt came off Jonathan was almost alarmed to find one of her hands ghosting over her shoulder as the other moved the fabric over his shoulders. Not letting his eyes leave Susan, Jonathan pulled the undershirt down past his wrists and dropped it down into the darkness that was their other discarded clothing. With a clunk they both discarded their shoes and kneeled on the bed in one another’s arms, their naked upper bodies touching and making the situation somehow more real than it was. Jonathan trailed wet kisses along Susan’s neck and sneakily nipped at her shoulder, eliciting a small gasp. She secretly enjoyed it but would rather not tell him aloud that his minor cannibalism was exciting her.

 

Susan let her hands rest on his lower back, one moving around toward his spine while the other drew in closer to her. Putting strength into the moved, she managed to get Jonathan on his back and sit across his lap. When something grazed her thigh she almost smiled. Almost.

“My turn,” she grinned as she let him sit up on his knees again, “with some reparations.”

Jonathan nearly jumped out of his skin when Susan began to kiss his neck and then along his jaw, mimicking his little bite at her shoulder on his. Her hands slid down his ribs and stopped at his hips, the man leaning up to sear her lips with a burning kiss. Susan’s hand met with the belt at Jonathan’s waist and he didn’t dare stop her. She was quick to remove it and had no issue with looking into his eyes as her hand met with the source of the bulge in his britches. He closed his eyes and laid an arm over one of her shoulders, the other holding him upright. Susan’s hand moved in a steady rhythm and rather quickly his breathing sped up. Judging by the small moan and the increasingly hot breath moving down her neck and heating her cold back, she had done something right. Apparently reaping souls from a particularly depraved area of Anhk-Morpork had paid off. Jonathan knew that he wouldn’t last long and lightly suckled at Susan’s neck, sending a shiver down her spine. He let it grow a little stronger until her hand ceased its movements, leaving him to hold herself up.

 

Only now did he wonder what he could do besides kiss and sat still for a moment, his lips leaving Susan’s pulse to think. Susan knew he was clueless about women but there was never a law on the Disc that said a lady couldn’t tell a man how to do something the right way. Gently taking one of his hands, Susan lifted her skirts and pulled them behind her so that he could see her gartered stockings. He gulped when she sat his hand on her thigh and looked at him with what she had hoped was a reassuring smile. With a hint of shyness in his movements, Jonathan undid one clip and then the other, slowly pulling the first sock away and letting his hand run up her leg with it. Susan felt a strange heat between her thighs and sighed loudly enough that the other person on the bed could hear her. The second sock came away and Jonathan let his eyes fall to the place where leg met hip and wandered a little further. Susan saw him look back up at her as a blush spread across his cheeks.

“You poor thing,” she teased, “it must be terrible to see a ladies underwear.”

Jonathan returned a hand to her hip and kissed her fully, his other hand holding his body’s weight as Susan lay back against the pillows. The hand at her hips moved to one side of her black panties and pulled slowly, being careful not to seem eager. In mere seconds they were gone and neither of them seemed concerned over clothing except Susan.

 

Jonathan was only half-naked and she was completely bare to his eyes. Jonathan was half-sitting between her legs and using his knees to stop himself from falling down onto Susan and crushing her. He may be shorter but he certainly made up for his height in muscle tone. One hand slipped down Susan’s stomach and he stopped it there for a moment as if he expected something to jump out and bite him. He looked back up at her dark eyes and continued moving downward until his hand met with something slick and smooth. At first he found it almost disgusting but then he remembered the books he’d read as a teenager about reproduction. It’s just what the body does… in these situations anyhow. Moving his fingers over the unfamiliar territory, Jonathan slid a finger downward until Susan jerked back at the sensation. He pushed forward and found that his finger had moved **into** something with some resistance of inner muscle. He looked up and realised that she enjoyed what he’d done and began moving his finger back and forth, slowly getting his finger in deeper each time. His resolve not to cause pain however was shattered when Susan made a suggestion.

“If this is going to work,” she said politely, “you’re going to have to add another. It’s just less pain to deal with later.”

Jonathan knew she would understand what was happening better than he did.

 

He put his free arm out beside her head while the other prepared to put in a second digit. As his mouth closed over Susan’s, she gasped at the strange sensation. She was being stretched and twisted in a way she had never felt before. It was painful but Jonathan seemed to calm her nerves and get her to relax enough for it not to matter. Jonathan kept moving his fingers into Susan slowly but the clenching around his fingers grew less and he sped up, pulling a low moan from her throat. He slowly drew his fingers out and kept his eyes on her flushing face. He pulled at the britches around his waist and removed them completely, not realising that Susan was staring at his back and backside. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at Susan and she was barely holding back a smile when he slid back between her thighs.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked sweetly.

(Well, as sweetly as he possibly could). Susan gently pushed his chest to meet hers and locked lips with him, putting his member up against herself. The contact made Jonathan almost shudder.

“I’m sure,” she said as she moved her head back from his to answer.

Satisfied with the answer, Jonathan kissed her neck and moved forward a little too eagerly, causing Susan squealed in pain.

 

He looked down at the place where their bodies met and – thankfully – saw no blood. He sought out one of her hands and grabbed onto it as kind-heartedly as possible.

“I hurt you didn’t I,” he said with a hint of confusion as Susan moved a hand to her mouth.

She only nodded slowly.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” she said breathing heavily, “just don’t move forward that quickly.”

Jonathan put a hand to her cheek and looking into her eyes, moved again; this time he was far slower. Susan’s eyes closed as she felt him move further inside of her, her mouth opening a fraction. Jonathan allowed himself a small smile before huffing at what he felt though not on the receiving end. Something was closing in around him, a unfamiliar warmth, the clenching of muscle… it was better than he’d thought. Jonathan continued to move upward with little kisses being applied here and there simply to prevent his loud moans. To Susan’s surprise they sounded far deeper than the voice he spoke with and it was a small comfort, aside from the extra caresses that were driving her senses wild. Susan and Jonathan were now breathing heavily and holding onto each other as if they would fall if the other let go. Taking matters into her own hands, Susan moved upward and Jonathan’s member left her, making him feel exposed and cold at once.

 

He was about to ask her what was wrong when she pushed him over and sat herself against him.

“Ladies choice,” she leant down and whispered in his ear with the most seductive voice she could manage.

Jonathan was surprised – not pleasantly – but surprised nonetheless. Susan sank down onto him carefully and watched his mouth. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip and covered it over with his upper lip to avoid her knowing that he was holding something back. Taking the initiative, Susan kissed his neck and raked her hands down his chest, taking his entire shaft into her body. He gave in and let out a heavy groan that made her blood heat up. Moving again she found a steady rhythm and leaned over him, their lips meeting. Jonathan felt a fire burning in his stomach and Susan’s body wasn’t helping it dissipate at all. Rather, it was adding to the sensation of burning. Luckily it was nothing like a real burn. Those were far worse than this… this burn was just building up into something that felt amazingly like something he’d done once on his own. But he didn’t like to think of that very often. Susan suddenly grew weak and slowly let herself move toward him as her body shook and her inner walls clenched around him.

 

She didn’t scream, but rather made an almost pained groan that amused him slightly. Jonathan leant up a little and kept moving, riding out the feelings with her until – half way through Susan’s orgasm – he released inside of her. As sweat began to cool them, they separated and lay in one another’s arms. Sleep took them and they awoke to find a bright sunny day. Jonathan snuck away and snapped his fingers, their clothes returning where they had once been. Nobody need know that his scrying crystal eye had a different effect on his environment in the Afterlife… it was his business. As he entered the room with two cups of tea, he saw something out of the corner of his eye on the bed. Moving closer to inspect it, Jonathan realised that there was a small bloodstain where they had made love the previous night.

“She really doesn’t lie,” he said to himself aloud.

Susan sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She smiled at him and he passed her the tea, accepting it graciously. They both heard a knock on the door all the way downstairs and looked at one another curiously. Susan took a quick sip of her tea and they both walked downstairs, Jonathan in the lead. He heard the knock again and looked back to Susan, hoping she could explain what had happened for someone to visit.

 

The door opened and their stood HIM; HIM being Death. Jonathan nearly fainted on the spot. If Death found out what his granddaughter had been doing last night he would probably stab him just to see him in pain. Instead he put out a hand and Jonathan took it, Death abruptly shaking it.

“WELCOME TO THE FAMILY,” he said in his deep, brooding voice.

Jonathan looked at his feet as he let Death’s hand go. Albert waved and smiled, quickly making a face at him. Death turned and saw it, telling him off as quietly as he could manage.

“FORGIVE ALBERT’S BEHAVIOUR SUSAN,” Death said apologetically, “HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND LOVE THE WAY YOU AND I DO. OH, AND I SUGGEST CLOSING THIS DOOR AND OPENING IT AGAIN IMMEDIATELY. YOU SHOULD LIKE WHAT IS ON THE OTHER SIDE. HAVE A NICE AFTERLIFE, BOTH OF YOU.”

Albert made a rather rude sign back and Jonathan smiled in embarrassment.

“Did your Grandfather just visit me to tell me I’m part of his family even though I tried to kill him on Hogswatch Eve?” he said in disbelief.

Jonathan shut the door and swung it back open to find the busy streets of Anhk-Morpork.

Men and women of all shapes and sizes, even species he had never seen before were bustling about the streets. Some of them even waved to him. Susan moved in beside him and he put his arm around her shoulders as they waved back.

“Apparently your madness stopped you from finding what you really wanted in the Afterlife,” Susan said in the hopes that she was right.

To her it seemed to be the only answer to her question of why things turned out the way they had.

“No,” Jonathan said with a smile, “you were what I wanted in the Afterlife.”

Susan kissed him and they walked out into the street, arm in arm. They weren’t monsters in people’s eyes anymore; they were lovers who had somehow broken the bounds of an already broken mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this story lacks my usual finess (if there was any at all) and that I may have somehow gotten lazy with my writing, so I am begging people who've seen the movies/read the books to tell me what it is missing and for those who've never read/seen them to tell me what the story has too much of or is lacking. 
> 
> Please and Thank you,
> 
> Madzie2000
> 
> PS Another story taken out of this series (involing these characters) will be here to follow up to fill in time; ENJOY!


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